


The Postman Never Knocks Twice (But Shadowhunters Do)

by Taupefox59



Series: Flash Bang #1 - Bingo (Team Green) [21]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, Detective Noir, Flash Fic, High Warlock Magnus Bane, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taupefox59/pseuds/Taupefox59
Summary: Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, is looking forward to a night alone in his office with a glass of whiskey.His plans are interrupted when a Shadowhunter arrives, asking him to take a new case.For Bingo Square #25 "Detective"





	The Postman Never Knocks Twice (But Shadowhunters Do)

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd. If you catch anything, please let me know!

It wasn’t easy being the only half-decent detective in the Downworld. I had my share of troubles with the vamps, the wolves. Even my own warlocks. Every time they showed up at my door, it was always because they had gotten too deep into _something_.

Now, I had known what I was signing up for when I went for this gig. After all, being High Warlock would always attract a certain amount of attention. I knew I could handle it though.

The people who walked into my office couldn’t. Every single one of them had always gotten themselves in too deep, and they came to me to try and help them.

I was good at my job, but sometimes, all I wanted was another cigarette and whiskey on the rocks. I settled in behind my desk where I had a 150 year old scotch that was calling my name.

That was when I heard the knock on the door. It wasn’t an appointment. My business hours were long over.

That meant it was an emergency. Or someone who _thought_ they had an emergency.

The amount of times people came crying to me about things I could fix in two minutes in the morning. It wasn’t all bad though. My fees for after-hours work were enough to pay for my 150 year old scotch, though, which is why I never locked the front door.

If I really wanted to keep someone out, they would never even make it to my office.

The knock came again. I opened the door with a wave of my hand. I might be about to take a job for this person, but that didn’t mean I was going to get out of my chair for them.

I could smell it as soon as the door opened. Leather and Adamas. _Shadowhunters_.

Shadowhunters were the worst of them. If there was a shadowhunter at _my_ door, it meant that the Institute had managed its usual level of competence and fucked up everything beyond comprehension.

I always made sure to charge them accordingly for my trouble.

I decided that I deserved my whiskey after all, if I was going to be dealing with nephilim. Another wave of my hand and I had my drink on the table. Perfect.

The door opened wider, and I was suddenly glad I hadn't taken a sip of my drink yet.

I had been expecting a lot of things, but not this. He was tall - the kind of tall that had him stooping to come in through my door as he entered. He had that _Shadowhunter_ look about him, too prideful and too tense, but he didn’t enter past the doorway.

“Are you going to sit down?” I asked.

He looked at me. “Thank you for seeing me. I know it’s after-hours for you.”

His voice was low, but it carried well through the office. He wasn’t loud, but he knew how to make himself heard. This was a man who was used to being listened to. A _Shadowhunter_ who was used to command. Yet, he wasn’t telling me what to do. The fact that his opening statement was awareness of my time was both unexpected and intriguing.

“I don’t know you, Shadowhunter.” I said, leaning back to rest my feet on my desk. Just because I was intrigued didn’t mean that _he_ had to know that. I could get a much better paycheck if I played up my reluctance.

“Alec Lightwood.” He said. “Acting Head of the New York Institute.”

“Lightwood?” The surprises didn’t seem to stop with this man. “Why are you here?”

He took a deep breath like he needed to steel himself for something, but then he looked me dead in the eye.

“We need your help.”

It wasn’t something I heard from shadowhunters very often, but I had heard it enough that I knew my life was about to get a _lot_ more interesting.

“Of course you need my help.” I said, standing up to stretch. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

He didn’t respond to me, but he didn’t deny it either.

Alec’s eyes were skipping down my body like he hadn't quite heard me speak, and wasn’t _that_ interesting. I knew exactly how I looked in my jacket.

I reached down to fiddle with my cuffs, bringing my arms up to show off my shoulders. I could see Lightwood smile as he followed my movement.

I didn’t usually enjoy working with shadowhunters, but I was starting to get the idea that this could be _fun_. Or at least, maybe I could have a little bit of fun with Acting Head Alec Lightwood.

I walked around the desk and casually moved into his space. “Alec wouldn’t be short for Alexander, now, would it?”

Lightwood swallowed again, and I could see his throat work as he tried to come up with words.

“I - Yeah. Alexander, I’m -Yes.”

Oh, this boy was _hooked_.

It was a good thing he was hooked, because the closer I got to his hazel eyes, the more I realized that I was on track for trouble too. The shadowhunter was taller than me, but he didn’t look down on me. It was a rare combination.

I had been making a point to avoid shadowhunters since the mess with the Circle. It had seemed best for everyone if we just kept to ourselves.

Maybe I had been wrong, though. This boy was in a position of power, and I wasn’t getting any sense of condescension from him.

“Well, _Alexander_ ,” I leaned hard on his name, and I could see him shiver at it, “you said you needed my help?”

He blinked at me before he managed to pull himself together. “Yes. There’s been a breach at the Institute. A demon got in and I need to find out how. I need to rule out the wards before I move on to other avenues.”

I could see the way his gaze kept slipping to my mouth. I licked my lips slowly just to watch the flush rise on his face. “Before you move on to other avenues?” I repeated back to him. “You’re not telling me that my wards are the problem.”

He shook his head slightly, dragging his gaze back up to meet mine. “We can’t sense magic, so I can’t gather information on the wards. They’re just one variable, though. I need to find the weak point. This cannot happen again.”

I grinned. Level-headed, logical, protective and pretty.

  
I had a feeling that working this case could prove to be _fun_ in the best of ways.


End file.
